Influence of Time (Reworked)
by MonAnge1863
Summary: Christine Delacroix is a talented, young musician working her dream job as part of the Palais Garnier's symphony orchestra when suddenly, weird things begin to happen to her both in and out of the historic theater. Will she like what she finds, when prompted to investigate these weird happenings? Modern AU and Fantasy elements


**Hello All! This is a reworking of a previous story I had started and put on hold for a few years. Hope you like the reworking, and please let me know what you think!**

**1 **The Mysterious Rose-

~_Paris France, Present Day~_

It was a warm, midsummer's eve. The sun was just beginning to set when a rare icy breeze drifted into the open bedroom window of Christine Delacroix, playing with the curtains and caressing her cheek as she read a novel in bed. The cold air chilled her skin, causing an involuntary shudder to run down her spine. Reluctantly, Christine wrenched herself from the twisting plot of the novel she was reading; Gaston Leroux's _The Phantom of the Opera_, to shut the window. Before returning to her reading, however, Christine gazed thoughtfully at the incredible sight before her. Paris was bathed in the glowing hues of a sunset, and the majestic presence of the Eiffel Tower was but a silhouette in the distance. Dark shadows cast by the surrounding buildings danced throughout the streets, transforming the lively, populated streets into dark passages. From below the window of Christine's apartment, she could hear the sounds of jazz music, laughter, and fleeting conversation coming from Le Cafe de la Rose just down the street, along with picking up the overwhelming scent of freshly bloomed roses and red wine. Christine took in the scene with delight and awe. It all seemed so unreal to her, as she thought back on what had happened in the last year. It seemed to her that it was only yesterday that she was graduating from Virginia State University with her degree in music and vocal performance, but now she was living on her own in Paris, working her dream job as a classically trained musician in a symphony orchestra for the Palais Garnier. With a content sigh, Christine closed the open panel of the bay window, then returned to her bed to continue the enthralling plot of her novel. The book was very well loved, as evident by its well worn, creased, and yellowing pages.

Years earlier, Christine had received it as a gift on her twelfth birthday from her close friend, Meg Granger. Thinking back to that day, Christine could still remember the confusion she had when she tore away the music note gift wrap, finding a note attached to its cover that read:

_"Christine,_

_May you be a shining star gracing the opera stage one day, and maybe _

_You too can find the Erik to your Christine! _

_your Beloved Friend,_

_M.G."_

That very night, Christine poured over each page with wonder, entranced by the dynamic of the plot and characters. The novel soon became one of her favorites, growing her passion for music more so than she already had. Finding that there were theatrical and film adaptations to the classic novel, Christine watched them all, loving each and every one of them. She had even been gifted tickets to see the Broadway show as a graduation gift. Of all the characters that Leroux intricately weaved from his imagination, the character that Christine was most captivated by was its tormented antagonist, Erik, drawn to his haunted past and his fruitless search for affection in a world of hate and scorn.

Christine found a good stopping point in her book well after sunset, her sapphire eyes starting to tire with fatigue. Looking at the time, she was surprised to find that it was nearly midnight. "It was a good thing I decided to stop when I did," Christine mused to herself. " I have to be up early for rehearsal tomorrow morning." Setting the novel in her nightstand, Christine prepared for bed. She changed into a cool tank top and pajama shorts and began to comb out her long, chestnut colored hair. She sat on the window seat, brushing out her naturally curled hair under the light of the moon, singing snatches of a Mozart aria softly under her breath. Continuing to sing, she braided her hair with deft fingers and washed her face before climbing into bed. Before turning out the light, Christine saw a beautiful red rose resting atop her book. Tied to the rose's slender, thornless stem was a silk ribbon that was black as night. Bewildered, her tired eyes widen in shock "This wasn't here before.." Christine said aloud as she cradled the rose in her hands. She looked around, trying to come up with an explanation for this. Finding none, she went to put it in a bud vase to preserve the cut flower. Before placing the rose into the vase, Christine put the rose up to her nose, inhaling its familiar scent. Underlying this scent, however, Christine noted a trace of another lingering scent; a combination of sage and a musky, forest-like smell. "Almost like cologne," Christine thought. She smiled softly. Whoever the mystery sender of the rose was, they knew what she liked. The lingering scent was very comforting to Christine, though she didn't quite know why. She got into bed, setting the bud vase next to her book before turning off the table lamp. Still pondering how the rose came to be there, Christine drifted off to sleep, the image and the lingering scent of the rose ingrained into my mind.


End file.
